Easy Tiger

  Singapore, Singapore
Sunday, May 4, 2008

It was a massive balls up trying to leave Melbourne. With only a day left on my Aussie bridging visa it was critical that I get my arse out of Australia on that very day, otherwise all sorts of complications would have burst through the door - like beatings, solitary confinement and a huge 'Don't even think about it!' stamp in my passport, should I ever be so stupid as to try and enter Australia again. So you could say things were tense before I even approached the check-in desk. Then it happened. The prick on the desk wanted to know where I was going after Singapore and how long I planned to stay. PLANNED.

Woz: Dude, I'm Scott Woz. How would I know where I'm going next? I haven't met any legendary banter heads yet that want to kick-start the day on some random adventure and head off into the sunset..
Prick: So how long you staying in Singapore?
Woz: I dunno!
Prick: Well... when are you going home?
Woz: Home? I don't have a home. I'm a sorry, smelly-arse tramp. I'm going to Asia, to make history..
Prick: History? I need to see an onward ticket.
Woz: Onward ticket? To where?
Prick: Anywhere. We can't let you on this plane until you show that you'll be out of Singapore within thirty days.

I'm not joking. I had to leave the queue, go to the nearest travel agents and get that life-saving piece of paper - as cheap as I could get it. I won't even go in to the palaver that went down in the travel agents, just that I walked out with a flight to Bangkok at a cost that would save a small village. A flight I have no intention of taking.

Anyway..



It's weird being back in Singapore. Good weird. I've been staying on the east coast near the beach and have already met some great roomies. The perfunctory old guy (Ben, 65, from Sulawesi) has been a right bundle of entertainment. He loves patting you on the shoulder while he tells great stories, the history of his country, or just the fact that he's been here in the dorm for almost a year earning great money exploiting his 'very special skill'. Other banter-heads include the two Californians who rocked up the same night as I did, Aladdin from Jordan (who makes a point of bad-mouthing the middle east whenever he can) and young Sarah the pommie from Leamington who's just finished a lengthy stint in South America. I spent the first couple of days meandering around the island with with her, and for the first time in years I felt like I was on holiday. It's not so much the culture as the humidity - worlds away from last time I was here during the wet season. Apart from the nasty spread of heat rash that smothered me in a matter of minutes it's been a thoroughly unwinding time. We poked around in downtown Chinatown, sniffed in the aromas of Little India, slurped juice (and bits) straight out of the coconut, strolled the length of the Changi coast, stuffed ourselves with Nasi Lemak and splashed about down at the beach on the east coast - all very peaceful and carefree. So all's good for the moment, as I ease myself precariously in to this steaming hot region.



In a few minutes I'll be heading off to the station, where I'll be joining the east-west MRT line over to Commonwealth - to Kit's place. Remember her? I met up with her last time and we enjoyed a festive platter of pigs stomach and Teo Chew porridge. She reckons that's nothing though, that this time I'm in for a real treat. Nothing like stimulating the gag reflex eh?